Sunday, 7 December 2014

Sunday Summary (or, Wig-out of the Week)

As we slide speedily into the festive season I find myself, ever more frequently, channelling that pillar of hope and inspiration more commonly known as...

...Bridget Jones

So in true Bridge fashion, this Summary will take on a vaguely Bridget Jones's Diary-esque tone. But with ever so slightly less swearing.

Number of books on the go: 1

{How to Build a Girl | Caitlin Moran}

Number of times I've given an audible snort of laughter while reading this book: an admirable 5 so far.

And it takes a lot to make me snort audibly at a book these days. (Admittedly one of these snorts was in appreciation of the previous reader of my library copy who had marked up a typo in pencil. Whoever they are, I salute them.)

Number of episodes of House goggle-boxed this week: probably about 12

Number of times I've wanted to deliver a swift flick to Cameron's forehead and tell her to get over herself: probably about 12,000

...though series 2 does have the added benefit of Sela "CSI:NY" Ward as Stacey, House's ex, who was conveniently hired on the spot at the end of series 1 to be the hospital's legal counsel. Because the whole House-Cuddy thing was lacking tension on account of Cameron being absolutely no threat to their dynamic whatsoever, is my theory.

Number of nightmares induced by watching House too late at night: 1.
There's a lesson there.

Number of Christmas films rewatched so far: only the 1...

...but it was this one!

{Love Actually}

Number of Christmas parties rocked this week: an epic 1

Oh, it was excellent, it really was.

Held at the Underglobe venue beneath Shakespeare's Globe on Bankside, London, it was themed, as I had hoped, as the Labyrinth masquerade ball scene, and there was a Jareth, and masks, and superlative music choices, and everything.

There's a very, very good chance that given the rather fabulous proliferation of LBDs on show from my gorgeous glam colleagues that I may have been ever so slightly over-dressed.

{Posey McPoserson}

But y'know what? It didn't matter. The dress (thank you, Charlie!) was magic and was different (thank you, Charlie!) and gave me the boost of confidence I needed. (Again, thank you, Charlie!)

I'd barely eaten any dessert before the lure of the (chequerboard!) dance floor became too much and I threw my hands in the air and danced like I just didn't care.

This was, however, me at midnight, trying to find my way around the Shard and into London Bridge station...

Number of Christmas cards bought, written and sent: 0

This is the reason for my potential wig-out. Severe disorganisation on the card front. It's shameful.

Number of frames still yet to create on the annual Christmas animation: 30. Ish.

I have spent the last week or so entrenched in Photoshop Elements, painstakingly cutting out characters and timing frames against the music. It's a lengthy process, and I can completely appreciate why Aardman output a film only every few years or so (!)

...But if I let you all see the animation (somehow...) and -- ostentatious moment alert -- put a donation in to charity, will you forgive me for not sending any cards this year?